Weekend At King's Landing
by The Tambourine Man
Summary: Being king means having to put up with a lot of annoyances. Like having a dead sellsword at the table.


**Author's Note: I don't actually know where Highgarden is, but it's funnier this way.**

Having the knowledge of countless generations in his head had led Bran to discover a universal truth; In all corners of the world, in all stations, at all ages, among both the wisest and the most foolish, meetings were a pain in the arse to actually pay attention to. Part of the reason he liked his current Small Council was that they were proactive enough to not need many meetings. Or at least many meetings with _him._ They all did their own thing, talked about it with each other, and he just dropped by quickly to make sure nothing was on fire.

This meeting was different. This time it was much easier for him to pay attention to. This time he was positively brimming with energy. An annoyed, frustrated energy, but still energy. He had managed to focus on Davos's update on their current fleet for a good twenty seconds before spacing out. That was almost twice as long as normal.

"-And that's all I have to say, your highness." Davos added.

"Well, I think that was a most enlightening meeting. We can now say definitely that nothing has changed since last time. I think we can reasonably end this meeting now with nothing more being lost." Tyrion interjected.

"I think not. The Master of Coin still needs to speak." His voice was filled with frustration. Well, as much frustration as he could muster. It was a difference too small for most people to notice, but that didn't mean it wasn't there.

"That's okay, your highness. What I have to say is very boring and obnoxious. You shouldn't waste your time listening to me."

Bran waited a carefully selected measure of time so what he said next would have the proper weight. "All right then, Bronn. I'll talk to the rest of the council about what they've done."

A wave of anxiety washed over the assembled council. "Aaand… What would that be, your highness? I thought we'd already covered everytyhing." Sam asked.

"Your highness," Brienne said, "I assure you, we have brought to your attention everything that could be of concern to you. We would never try to hide anything from you."

"Ha ha, you are in trouble! I am amused by your suffering because I am Bron and I hate everybody."

"Please, your highness. Everything we do here, we do only for the good of the realm. We are all working towards a common goal."

"Really?" Asked Bran. "So stabbing Bron to death, hooking him up to some wires so you can move him around, and pretending he's still alive was for the good of the realm?"

"You are very stupid, King Bran. I am saying that because I am Bron and I have been payed two gold pieces to betray the realm. Now I will kill you!" Bron's pale, stiff body was yanked upward about two inches before one of the pulleys jammed.

"Oh no, Bron is betraying us." Tyrion said flatly. "Brienne, please take care of –"

"Enough. Please explain to me why you conspired to stab my Master of Coin in the back."

"We did not conspire anything, your highness." Davos said indignantly.

"He's right."

"It's the truth."

"Davos is an honest man and you should trust everything he says."

"We all decided to kill him independently. We just all did it at the same time." Davos said. "Besides, Brienne stabbed him in the front."

"And I wasn't actually able to reach his back. Too many stabbers had already gotten there. I had to make do with what I could get to." Tyrion paused a moment. "I wonder how history will remember him? 'Bron, Lord of Highgarden, Master of Coin, died of being stabbed in the arse'."

Bran paused again. He didn't care enough to let out an actual deep sigh, but he hopes the pause would suffice. "Why did you all kill him?"

"Well, he was pretty corrupt." Sam said. "I once saw him pay a whore with a painting of Aegon I."

"He routinely sold information about our internal goings-on to the North. And the Ironborn. And Dorn. And to the Free City of Bravos." Brienne added.

"It's true." Tyrion said. "He even offered Bravos a discount after they refused."

"He asked me to send a ship full of whores to Highgarden. Even though it's not on the coast." Davos said.

"And let's not forget that he sold the Riverlands to Khal Bobo. And not even for a very good price." Tyrion added.

"The Five Kingdoms just haven't bee the same since." Sam said.

"Understandable reasons. He was an arsehole. But more importantly, why did all of you think this would fool me?"

"Well, I thought we did a pretty good job of it." Sam said.

"I can see the pulleys. And the rope. And I could see your lips moving when you talked for him. And he's still wearing the clothes you killed him in."

"I guess it was a bit of a rush job. But we didn't have a whole lot of time." Sam replied sheepishly.

"He's been dead long enough to start bloating. And he's still in the clothes he died in. I can see where Brienne stabbed him."

"The pulleys took a pretty long time to set up."

"I see. You have served the realm well, so I'll pardon all of you on one condition."

"What's that, your highness?"

"While he was alive, Bron refused to pay for a monument I wished to build."

"I will see that it's done, sir." Tyrion said.

"Good. Hodor earned it. See to it that Bron's body is disposed of the way he would want it to be."

"I will see it done, your highness."

"Good." With that, Bran departed. Tyrion turned to Brienne.

"He was mad at the brothel on Tin Street. He said they overcharged him. Go throw him through their window."


End file.
